A Route Obscure And Lonely
by DragonflyxParodies
Summary: Sheikah. Gerudo. Prey. Synonyms to the Hylians. Hunted for sport, both races have long since fled Hyrule or died out-except for a few, safe in one of nine sanctuaries spread across Hyrule. When one lone survivor seeking family is forced to ally himself with a Hero as Twilight descends, however, all of Time hangs in the balance.
1. Shadow Hunting

Vivid scarlet-a color he was intimately familiar with-speckling dark emerald leaves left a clear trail for the hounds to follow. Every instinct within him screamed to bind his wounds, to stop the bleeding, but the noise of crashing undergrowth and the barking of wolfos kept his legs pumping desperately. Blood ran down the side of his jaw, covering the tattoo he had been so proud of only minutes before and soaking the thick cloth of his cowl.

Malladus had nicked his cheek in training just before the first hound attacked, but it was the cut on his upper arm that was giving him away. The best he had been able to do was keep his arm clenched tightly to his side, turning it awkwardly so that as little of his blood poured out onto passing branches as possible. It was far from effective, but he would take even the smallest bit of help.

Sheik wove through the trees, his familiarity with the land the only thing keeping him ahead of his pursuers. He could see flashes of Malladus ahead of him, casting spells to hide the Seventh and to slow or kill their pursuers. Automatically Sheik began running towards the older Sheikah, knowing he would be safest with Malladus. A flurry of shouts rang out behind him, much closer than he had anticipated.

He risked a glance over his shoulder-to see a Hylian wearing silver armor lift a bow, an arrow strung. Sheik's eyes widened and he jerked his head around, swerving as the arrow flew. It missed him, but only barely. He pumped his legs faster-but the second took him in the shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground. The arrow caught on something and wrenched around in the wound, eventually bending so far it snapped into two pieces as he tumbled through the woods. Lightning shot through his body, excruciating in its intensity.

He had withstood pain before and knew better than to show any sort of weakness in front of his enemies, but as he crumpled to the loamy earth, a soft cry slipped past him. Sheikah weren't supposed to show pain, no matter the circumstances. Shame, hot and miserable, flooded him as he struggled to his feet. He had failed, both Malladus and his people, something he had promised Veran he would never do.

Power surged from beneath him, Poes bursting at their bonds so far beneath the earth that even the Fracturing had not disturbed their graves. The Ninth had not been managed by a live Sheikah in countless moons, and the magic that kept the dead from the surface had weakened severely. Sensing his terror, they sought to protect him, and were further weakening the damaged network of magic.

Instinctively, Sheik thrust all of his magic down into the Ninth's web, briefly loosing focus on what was going on around him.

Something heavy and powerful slammed into him and he reflexively jerked his arms up as his vision cleared. It was a wolfos, half-starved and sickly, eyes wild with rage and a desperate sort of hunger. It snarled at him, its hot, rank breath pouring over his face as globs of white drool splattered his cowl. He struggled to breathe properly-nearly dead or not, its weight was double, if not triple, what he weighed and his chest screamed with pain as air came less freely to his lungs. Its jaws lunged for his throat-

-and his arm was crushed beneath its maw, blood, bone, and shredded cloth splattering both of their faces.

By some miracle, he managed not to scream, but his horror knew no bounds.

Sheikah bones were lighter, more fragile than Hylian's. A break such as this, without the aid of a powerful dead soul, could incapacitate him for the rest of his life.

There was a blur of motion above him, and for one terrible moment, Sheik saw directly into the wolfos' mouth, parts of himself caught in its jagged teeth and everything so _very _red. Then Malladus was kneeling before him, hooking an arm around his waist and drawing him up even as the older Sheikah began moving.

"Don't give them the satisfaction of crying, Sheik." Malladus breathed, ducking and weaving a blinding pattern throughout tree trunks. Squeezing his eyes shut, Sheik nodded against Malladus' shoulder.

Malladus suddenly cursed and Sheik lifted his head in time to see something falling over them from above. Yellow-red magic flared around them, but the net cut through it like a razor.

The net crashed over Malladus, sending both of them tumbling to the ground.

He caught sight of an ugly wound stretching almost all the way down Malladus' side as the older Sheikah began to curse, thrashing against the net's hold. Sheik himself remained absolutely still, remembering Veran's lessons as silver-clad Hylians approached.

Never show pain. Never cry. Never let them know when you are at your breaking point.

The camaraderie he saw above him only intensified his fears. A year he had spent in the Seventh and he knew that at triple that time had passed in the outside world, but they had emerged far too soon. They had not yet faded into nightmares, into stories told to children. These Hylians were fully comfortable with hunting them down-and, most terrifying of all, they were experienced with it.

Sheik recognized the Hylian who had shot him, as they ringed the net. Malladus, lying only a few feet away from him, twisted around so that their eyes met and called for him in the tongue of their people.

"If you see a chance, take it. Don't worry about me." Malladus' voice rasped, trying to maneuver his tangled body to see all of the Hylians and Sheik at the same time.

"But-"

"Don't question me!" Malladus snarled, ruby eyes flashing yellow for an instant. Sheik held his gaze, realizing that Malladus, for all the power he held, was terrified.

His nod still felt like a betrayal.

A rush of Hylian above him startled Sheik, and he looked up at the soldiers-because that was what they were, soldiers hired to slay the innocent and the helpless. He barely understood Hylian at the best of times, when Veran was speaking softly and slowly to him, enunciating each word carefully. The language grated on his ears, choppier and erratic compared to the Sheikah tongue. Most of the words spoken he couldn't make out, but he was aware most of them were slurs, threats of violence and death.

One Hylian dressed in less practical armor than the rest sauntered forward and stood over him, leering as he barked something out. Malladus snarled back, straining against his bonds.

Malladus had always been massive, especially for a Sheikah. Broad-shouldered and heavily muscles, he had always looked more like Gerudo, save the coloring of his skin, hair, and eyes. Sheik had always imagined putting him side-to-side with Ganondorf. He had no doubt their meeting would be something to behold, the Bearer of Power and a demon so old he had witnessed the creation of the Triforce.

The decorated Hylian laughed, lifted a spear, and smashed it against Malladus' stomach. He said something else, looking smug, and pivoted on his foot as he walked off.

Then the hounds lunged.

As the wolfos snarled, striving for their throats, the Hylians jerked the net around, attaching it to a pair of horses. Sheik marveled at how well they'd been herded-right to the edge of one of Faron's paths. This had obviously been planned out.

But, how? That had been the very first time they had left the Seventh since they had arrived.

A wolfos bleeding profusely from a wound on its head jumped atop him, snarling furiously as it tried to get at his throat. With only one good arm, Sheik frantically shifted about, wriggling out from one particular tangle in the net, and succeeded in twisting the wolfos' paws too severely for it to escape. The maneuver cost him, a number of thin claw marks ran across his cheek, chest, and good arm, but there was nothing too serious.

The dragging became rough after that, though, and Sheik was struck a number of times in his still-bleeding arm and shoulder. He already knew the blood loss was affecting him, lightening his head and making him far more tired than he should have been, but he couldn't cope with repeated blows.

He sank into darkness.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Splintered memories flickered to life, until he couldn't separate past from present.

Time had always been something malleable to him-that very quality of it was why he was alive then, after all-but never like this. Almost entirely forgotten people appeared, strangers without a name, places he could barely remember being. Scattered throughout his recollections were images of the present, the tiny animal stall he was tossed into, the wolfos reaching at him, trying to snag his flesh. He was lucky they had been so domesticated-wolfos in the wild usually went bipedal, like most sentient creatures, and possessed incredible dexterity in their limbs.

He wasn't feverish for long, maybe a day or so, but he woke with the image of his uncle clearly burned into his retinas.

Ganondorf's picture was disjointed, a collection of faded reminiscences stitched together by Veran's legends. He remembered riding on the Gerudo King's shoulders, half-asleep and hugging the crown of his head tightly to keep from falling. Broad and built like a predatory cat, Ganondorf had been nothing but muscle. He'd had a daughter Sheik's age, and she'd shown off how strong she was by punching her father in the stomach. Sheik remembered laughing with her as Ganondorf had played the part of a wounded enemy, doubling over dramatically and crying out that he was defeated, asking the great Gerudo warrior for mercy.

Sheik remembered the fear that had lurked behind his eyes, haunted his smile and echoed in his laughter as he had promised his people that they would be safe. It was the same fear that had burned in Malladus' eyes.

His stomach was tight, throat dry as the desert sands. Hunger was nothing new to him, and he ignored it as he sat up. A chorus of low growls echoed from the darkness around him, and Sheik recalled that he was not safe.

"Malladus?" He breathed softly, voice echoing throughout the room he was in. There was stone beneath him, cold and damp. The smell of decay was everywhere, rotting wood and rotting flesh combined. There was very little light, and if he were Hylian or Gerudo he would have been blind, but he was a Sheikah, and he could see perfectly fine.

He was in what appeared to be a dungeon, a large circular room filled with wolfos, empty cages, the remnants of the hounds' meals, and waste. He was alone.

There were cracks in the stonework, roots spilling in from outside. Most emerged from underground, revealing only dark earth, but near the top there were some that were clusters of leaves, letting green light dribble down. The ragged remains of finery hung in the room, which puzzled Sheik. Hylians were never ones to waste anything expensive-why fill a room such as this with their animals? Portraits still hung on the wall, framed with gold and depicting a desolate road leading to a black keep, skeletal trees clutching at the edges while a pregnant sky let loose its lightning.

Tentatively, he reached out with his magic.

Fury, raw, explosive rage. Holy magic, imbuing every pebble, every grain of _dust_ with sentience, aching with the violations it had suffered.

The wolfos pack woke as one, keening and struggling to get as far away from Sheik as they could as he gasped for breath, reeling from the force of the spirit haunting this desecrated temple.

The shadows in the room lengthened, darkened, and began to form a physical shape. It was a strange sight to see, like watching someone pour water into a glass without a glass. There was nothing to contain the shadows, yet as they splashed against one another they hit an invisible wall, a definitive barrier in the shape of a man.

He collapsed to the ground outside of Sheik's cage, bloody eyes meeting bloody eyes.

Sheik didn't recognize what form the shadows had taken, save that it was Hylian, and thereby it had been a Hylian that had mastered it last.

The spirit moved faster than even Veran could move when she was furious with Malladus, a black-hilted blade appearing in his grip and striking the cage's rusted door. It crumpled soundlessly, dissolving into pools of rust that clung to Sheik's blood-soaked clothes as he carefully crawled out.

The shadow's form splintered suddenly, and Sheik could acutely feel the spirit's hatred, boiling hotter than Death Mountain. He cautiously reached out and pressed his good hand against the shadow, wincing at the chill of it, realizing that the bandages wound around his arm were little more than tatters at this point. He poured his magic into it, gently circling it until a framework was formed, keeping the form even if the spirit's magic collapsed.

"Who do you serve?" Sheik asked in Sheikah, dropping his hand and taking a small step back. He knew he was being extremely informal to the ancient thing he had just aided, but Veran had never covered etiquette in her lessons.

"Lanayru." The shadow's voice was little more than a hiss, a rush of escaped air. Ruby eyes studied him intently, the sort of gaze Malladus had first given the Stalchildren Sheik occasionally brought to the Seventh to play with. The shadow was assessing whether or not he'd be a threat.

Sheik let a weary smile touch his lips.

"What Temple?"

"Faron's Keep." Sheik's eyes widened.

"Faron's mutt weakened me, bound me to this until Lanayru's blood found me."

"Did Malladus-?"

Voices, unfamiliar and speaking Hylian. The shadow moved immediately, flowing to a wall and lifting his sword.

"Lanayru gets her revenge now, little one."

The wall parted, revealing a staircase leading up. Unlike the rest of the room, it carried an air of not belonging, being itself rougher and less fluent than the rest of the room. Even the wilting paintings carried with them a sense of right. The Hylians must have built it, Sheik realized, just as two of them, laughing and chattering to one another, died beneath a stroke of the shadow's blade.

"Malladus…Do you know if he's alright?" Sheik asked quickly, before the shadow vanished up the staircase. It paused and turned to face him, ruby eyes narrowed.

"What is the demon to you, blood?" The sudden nickname threw him off more than the shadow's tone did, full of warning.

"Father." Sheik replied simply, tilting his head up to make himself seem somewhat larger. Blood did not bind him to Malladus, or Veran for that matter. What tied them together was something more important, something deeper.

He knew Malladus' history, just as he knew Veran's. He knew Malladus was an ancient evil, bound formless unless he stole the body of a Royal Sheikah. He knew what crimes Veran had committed. He knew both had been imprisoned, a fate worse than death to the Sheikah, spirits ripped from their breathing bodies and mummified alive.

He knew the Fracturing had set them free.

But what was more important than the choices they had made previously was that they had been there for him. They had raised him, trusted him, trained him. He was the son of the leader of the Sheikah, if his blood father was still alive. They had known that. They could have gone to the Traitor's side, abandoned their people to Hylian blades.

A small smile tugged, unseen, on the shadow's lips. Sheik walked towards the stairwell as quickly as he could, wounds still burning with pain, as the spirit vanished. The wolfos wouldn't stir immediately, but he knew they would eventually and he had to find Malladus.

He didn't have to look long.

The stairs emerged into a large central chamber with a multitude of halls branching off of it, lit by daylight pouring in from a variety of stained-glass windows and torches bracketed to the walls. In the center of the chamber sat a pair of thrones. Sitting in them were two Hylians, one the same that had argued with Malladus when they had first been caught, the other a woman dressed in a pale blue dress. Ten soldiers stood in front of them, four on either side of the thrones and two holding a man down between them.

Malladus.

He was bloodied, almost beyond recognition. His clothes had been shredded by weapons, and Sheik could clearly see brand marks scattered across his back. The shadow was nowhere in sight, but he could see one hall covered in shadows darker than they should be.

"Malladus…" His voice was barely above a whisper, but everyone in the room heard it. The soldiers spun around to face him, cries of alarm flickering to life as they drew their weapons. The woman in blue cried out in horror. Malladus' head snapped around, yellow eyes burning as they met Sheik's. In that instant, Sheik knew what he was going to do.

"Run."

Malladus lost control of his form, the demonic aura he had always meticulously contained exploding outwards, freezing all of the Hylians in place.

A flicker of movement caught Sheik's attention and he lifted his gaze to a balcony set above them. A Hylian was drawing a massive broadsword, shouting something inaudible over the sound of Malladus' roars.

Sheik screamed out a warning-

-the Hylian jumped-

-Malladus' magic rose like a tidal wave-

-and with an unearthly scream, the Hylian's blade lodged itself hilt-deep in the back of Malladus' neck.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment, Malladus slowly collapsing, Hylians screaming as his weakening claws tore through their stomachs, his own voice rising far above all of it.

Yellow eyes met red for the last time.

"Run."

And then Malladus' form broke, the last droplets of Royal Sheikah blood falling to the ground as a tsunami of magic slammed into Sheik, sweeping him elsewhere before he could so much as think of replying.

The interior of the Seventh appeared around him, cloaking spells masking the location from potential followers. The last wisps of Malladus' immense power settled over him like a cloak, a goodbye that had never been spoken.

And Veran's anguished cry wailed into the night, an echo of the loss pounding in his own heart.

**xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

**Do I own LoZ or Poe's poem? Not on your life.**

**This fic be the fic for Camp Nano. Finally came up with a name by googling random words and reading the quotes I got. Hence the Poe thing.**

**So, I suppose I should put a warning thingy here? This fic will contain a lot of racism (If you couldn't already tell...) and violence. I'd elaborate but that would ruin the plot.**

**So, anyway, this fic takes place during the time of Twilight Princess, after Ocarina of Time. Hope you enjoyed it, I'm in love with this idea~**


	2. Shadow Marking

Veran had been entirely correct in telling him that this particular ceremony would hurt more than the others he had endured, but it wasn't as excruciating as she had made it sound. He lay still on the floor of the Seventh while she whispered to herself, a ribbon of blood looping in the air around them as she etched it into his flesh.

The other tattoos had been made using ink typical of the Sheikah, forming symbols and runes to mark his success undergoing the Trials and his communion with Lanayru herself. Magical, yes, but nowhere near as potent as this.

He was old enough now to withstand such a ceremony without the magic twisting his soul, Veran had claimed. He doubted such a thing was possible, and suspected she had been waiting until she was ready, but he always erred on the side of caution and waiting would do them no harm.

Besides, he hadn't been certain he was ready either.

Before Malladus had died, he had bled himself, collecting the liquid in a vial to be used when Sheik reached of age. Veran had undergone something similar, but it had been up to her to magically seal the blood so the power in it remained there year after year.

The ceremony was not typical of the Sheikah. Malladus, when alive, had added his own touch to it. The Bleeding Eye, a symbol sacred to the Sheikah, was usually tattooed onto a Sheikah sometime during their life. Using his blood instead of ink had been Malladus' touch. Veran, too, would add hers in a few days, once she had decided he had recovered sufficiently.

Sheik didn't know if Malladus had known his 'death' was coming or not, but the demon's foresight was a blessing. He'd have something tangible that he could never lose, from both of them.

His chest stung fiercely as Veran worked her magic, and his eyes roamed across the ornate ceiling of the Seventh.

He had voiced his concerns many times that this wasn't the best place to hide, that maybe the Eighth or the Fifth would have served them better. Time was intimately tied with all Hylians, but none more so than the Hero, and with the Master Sword slumbering only a few feet away from where he and Veran slept, that could be dangerous. The previous Hero was the cause of the Fracturing-his reincarnation _would_ eventually come here and _would_ find them.

And then Sheik would either have watch his mother die before him or kill the Hero, and doom any other Sheikah living in the Distortions like they were.

He turned his head, careful to move only his head as he did so, and his gaze fell to his outstretched right arm.

Veran had bound him to something within the Seventh's heart, to prevent any irreparable damage to his limb. Twelve years and she refused to tell him what it was, although he had his theories. The scars were still there, ugly and large. The bite mark had never healed perfectly, and the skin was knobby around the missing chunk of flesh. His face still bore the silvery traces of wolfos claws, as did his left arm. Those on his chest had healed, mostly, but he bore other scars, from close encounters with monsters and training sessions. Skull Kid had even given him a few, although those had been accidental.

The massive double doors that served as the entrance to the Seventh swung in. Reflexively, Sheik mentally pulled on his magic, but when Skull Kid scampered in, he let the half-formed spell dissolve.

Glinting golden eyes surveyed the two of them, and a skeletal hand reached up to tug at the brim of his hat. Amidst the leaves Skull Kid had woven into it were a few feathers, courtesy of Sheik. Brown threads of magic encircled the creature's fingertips, most of them ending in severed ties.

That should have been his first clue.

"What are you doing?" Skull Kid asked, dropping down dramatically beside Veran and resting its head against her shoulder. It spoke in Hylian, the only language it knew. It had been an effort when they had first met one another for Sheik to learn Hylian, but at this point he was fluent enough that he only reverted to Sheikah when he was furious about something.

"Spell-casting." He replied, watching Veran intently. Skull Kid usually didn't bother her, but she was irritable when using magic. She didn't seem disconcerted by its presence this time, a good thing for both of them.

"Are you almost done?"

"What's your hurry?"

"There's something I want to show you." Skull Kid replied, eyes flashing brighter than they had in a while.

It had been a while since Sheik had played a game with the Faron's construct. He had been focused solely on training for a long time, and a pang of guilt ran through him. He supposed it was a fairly macabre thing to amuse oneself with, tormenting those who managed to find themselves in the Seventh with no way out, but Hylians were the only ones to ever enter Faron's Grove. Skull Kid had taught him to use rudimentary construct magic to do things that learned experts couldn't, to make the most of his own magic and to borrow from the natural world, but above all, to never underestimate the wrath of the woods.

Faron's Grove was very hypocritical, but so was he. If the Hylian they were playing with lashed out, its ire knew no bounds. He knew to respect the land, but Skull Kid's lessons stressed that. Hyrule was a living thing, still enraged over the Fracturing and the Distortions. It wanted to be made whole again.

"As soon as Veran's done." Sheik promised. A grin stretched across Skull Kid's face, and it dropped its bag to the ground beside it, pouring out its treasures.

Small trinkets recovered from the bodies of those who had enraged the Grove, pebbles glittering with color, feathers too large to weave into its hat, and a number of ancient masks poured out onto the marble floor of the Seventh.

"I wore this one once." Skull Kid conferred softly, lifting up a heart-shaped mask. It had once been brightly painted, but age had faded the colors. They were still there, but washed-out, tired looking. Powerful magic stirred at Skull Kid's touch, fondly entwining with the construct's own magic.

"How's Majora today?" Sheik asked, biting back a yelp of surprise as Veran deftly pinched him, not even pausing in her spell. The ribbon of scarlet above them continued to flow as if nothing had occurred.

"Excited." Skull Kid replied, another grin appearing.

That should have been his second clue.

There was a sharp, agonizing bolt of fire, and Veran laughed as she dropped onto her back, dragging one hand through her messy hair. She was more voluptuous than most Sheikah were, but still had the slender build typical of their people. Her hair, cut longer on one side than the other, was disheveled-another night of nightmares had left her exhausted. It amazed him that she'd had the strength to do this.

Sheik bolted up, one hand curling around his stomach, and promptly collapsed again, the pain growing more intense.

"What-"

"Told you it would hurt more." Veran sang, rolling to her feet and dusting her hands off. A silver circle of magic appeared in front of him, letting him see what she had done.

The Bleeding Eye stretched across his chest and torso, the color of blood.

Malladus' blood.

"He'd be pleased." Veran said softly, dispelling the circle. Sheik, mute, simply nodded.

"Give it a few minutes and then go, to let the magic settle." Veran instructed, wandering off. Sheik nodded again.

Skull Kid repacked his belongings in silence, keeping Majora out until last.

By the time Faron's construct had finished, Veran had decided Sheik was well enough to go. He dressed, rolling his eyes as Skull Kid pranced around impatiently.

"I'm hurrying."

"It's all those bandages! Just don't wear them!" Skull Kid wailed. Sheik laughed softly, then winced as a barb of pain hooked through his chest. He still didn't take Skull Kid's advice, resolutely donning the garb he had worn for years. Sheikah were traditional, and Veran had raised him as Sheikah-like as possible. He grimaced as he tugged on the tabard, but after he let his arms drop his pains subsided.

"I'll be back before dark, Veran." He said, quickly tucking his weapons away. Skull Kid said nothing about it, and he finished before Veran had responded.

"Be safe, Sheik."

"You too." He said firmly, glancing up at her. Veran held his gaze for a moment longer, a soft, sad smile splaying across her lips.

Then Skull Kid grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the Seventh, whisking the doors shut behind them.

"What is it you want to show me?" Skull Kid didn't answer, instead pulling him towards the door that marked the entrance to the Seventh's Distortion. Sheik whispered a prayer to Lanayru, feeling her power cloak him as he helped Skull Kid push the door open.

Were he not to pray and exit the Distortion, even for a second, he would return to find Veran impossibly aged, or even dead. The Distortions, warps in Time itself, were the only reason that the Sanctuaries remained safe from Hylians. The Seventh, thankfully, only had one and so Lanayru's blessing would protect him until he returned.

Skull Kid wriggled in excitement while Sheik adjusted to the present, looking around at what remained of the Seventh. It was little more than ruins now, a clearing guarded by two silent stone statues. The Grove had swallowed most of it.

Skull Kid grabbed his hand again and yanked him towards the statues, surprising him. Usually they went into the Grove itself, not to the Master Sword. It was a pretty thing to look at, but there was no other reason to approach it. Why was-?

Sheik stopped moving so quickly that Skull Kid nearly yanked his arm out of its socket. The arching doorway the Grove had not yet swallowed rose above him, a barrier to any wishing to approach the drowsing Master Sword.

The green-clad Hylian noticed the sudden violent movement, and spun quickly, the Master Sword glittering in his hand. Magic thrummed in the air, thick enough that Sheik could hear it, vibrations shaking throughout the Grove.

"What…" The word fell from numb lips and Sheik trailed off, too shocked to do much else. The Hylian wore a green tunic and tan leggings, leather gauntlets and a series of belts crisscrossing his frame. A variety of bags hung at his hip and a sheathed sword clung to his back. He had choppily cut blonde hair, sharply pointed ears and sapphire eyes that widened when they spotted him.

Beside the Hylian floated a creature the likes of which he had never seen before. Humanoid and unmistakably female, she wore an intricately carved stone helmet atop her head. Hair the color of fire spilled out of the back of it, her body contrasting sharply with complex patterns of black and grey runes.

The markings were familiar to him, although he couldn't read them.

"Who are you?" She demanded, lifting her chin and narrowing her eyes at him. He couldn't make his limbs respond, too mired in his shock.

The Hero was here.

"No." Sheik spun violently towards Skull Kid, terror taking hold of him, a sort of denial begging that he had it wrong, that this wasn't actually the Hero.

"She made me promise." Faron's construct said seriously, eyes downcast, voice timid.

"She's-" He couldn't continue. He stumbled away, back slamming into the stone arch as he collapsed to the ground, Malladus' shattering body reappearing before his eyes.

Veran was dying. She'd _known_ she was going to die. She'd _known_ the Hero was coming. For the second time, someone he loved more than anything had sacrificed their life for him. For the second time, he was helpless

"Get away from him!"

"Look, kid, thing, whatever you are-"

"No, get away from him now!"

Someone's hand touched his arm, and he snapped out of his shock. His eyes met blue, and for a moment he was beyond confused-he wasn't on his back, why was the sky there?

Hylian. Blue eyes. The Hero.

The Hylian jerked backwards with a sharp yelp as Sheik's dagger swept across the spot his throat had been in a second ago.

"I _told_ you!" Skull Kid muttered.

"_Don't touch me!_" Sheik hissed, keeping his weapon pointed at the Hylian. The Hero held his hands up, then seemed to realize he was still holding the Master Sword, and dropped it as if it was on fire.

"I'm not gonna hurt you! Calm down!"

"I would laugh, but he almost took you out." The fire-haired creature drawled, eyeing him warily as she floated closer. More than anything, Sheik wanted to deal with them at that moment-but Veran was in trouble, and he needed to go to her.

He whipped his blade at the Hylian and bolted for the Distortion's gateway, begging Lanayru to let Veran be alright, that he would do anything for her so long as she ensured Veran was alive.

Skull Kid cried out for him, and he heard the shouts of the Hylian and his companion, but Sheik paid them no mind. He slammed into the Distortion's door with all of his strength, the doors creaking beneath his weight as they ever-so slowly opened.

Somebody grabbed him before he could tumble head-first into the Seventh, and for that he was grateful because he no longer had any strength in his body at all. He crumpled, save the arm around his torso, his chest screaming in agony at the movement.

It was massive, larger than anything he had ever seen before. A colossal eye focused on something he couldn't see blinked on its back as its scent, spoiled flesh and death, suffocated him. Legs scrabbling across smooth marble, the arachnid jerked itself forward and grasped something in its jaws.

Sheik's mouth opened in a silent scream when he saw it was Veran.

She fought, driving blade after blade into the arachnid's mandibles as her lifeblood spilled onto the Seventh's floor, bones slowly crushing in the monster's grip. Her gaze lifted from the jaws devouring her, and locked on him. For the first time, agony crashed over her face.

"Alair-_run!"_

And then the jaws snapped shut, and Sheik watched as the life she had stolen bled from her body, eyes darkening, limbs shriveling until they were nothing more than mummified flesh clinging to crumbling bones. Satisfied, the arachnid turned and scuttled towards the room that housed the Master Sword's pedestal.

_Alair-run!_

It clambered up a wall and _through_ a stained glass window, one of the most ornate decorations in the entire Temple.

It was gone.

A cry, animal and broken, filled the Temple. Sheik felt his cowl grow wet, but it didn't register that it was him who had made the noise, his tears that were wetting the cloth.

Veran was dead.

His mother was dead.

_Alair_…

She'd named him. Something that, by now, was impossible. Only his blood-parents could name him, and they were both dead-probably.

She'd named him.

"Sheik, you need to go. You can't-she made me promise! You have to leave!" It was Skull Kid, frantic and crying as it fought its way past whoever was holding him.

_Whoever was holding him?_

Sheik jerked free, spinning around as he yanked out another dagger. The Hylian again stumbled back, this time quicker, more fluid. This time, Sheik attacked. The Hero didn't have enough time to draw the Master Sword to block Sheik's weapon. He lifted a gauntleted arm, letting the blade glance off of the thick leather-enchanted, Sheik guessed. Sheik jumped backwards, drawing out another weapon before darting forward. His pause had given the Hero enough time to draw the Master Sword, but it was a larger weapon than a dagger and it took very little effort to weave around it.

Then there was something wrapped around him, pinning his arms at his side and wrenching his weapon from his grip. He was jerked off the floor, but rather than continue to fly, he was held in place, suspended by a magical force that was nearly suffocating in its intensity. The Hylian was likewise incapacitated, cursing as the Master Sword clanged to the ground.

"Now, I really don't care what trouble my Hero gets into, but if you try to kill him one more time, I'll be forced to kill _you_." It was the fire-haired creature, arms folded across her chest as she regarded him coolly.

Sheik replied with a flurry of Sheikah curses, pressing his own magic into that binding him until it splintered and crumbled, letting him fall to the ground.

"Hey!" She cried, indignant.

"Sheik…" Skull Kid crashed into him, still crying as the construct wrapped its arms around him, clinging to him tightly. He put a hand to the back of its head, his rage disappearing as quickly as it had arrived.

There was nothing left of Veran in the room they had spent the last thirteen years in, save the pool of stolen blood already dissolving as its magic fled to the Ninth. Her belongings lay untouched beside her bedroll, his own bundled neatly beside hers.

He could hardly feel his chest any longer, and he supposed that was a good thing as his resolve hardened within him.

"Explain yourself. Now." His tone surprised the Hylian's companion, but she showed it only for a minute. He saw her considering whether or not to patronize him, but her gaze went to the discarded weapons lying atop the marble below her and she seemed to think better of it.

"We came here for the Master Sword. Hyrule is being swallowed by Twilight, and we can't stop it without the sword. Although, now I think we'll be staying for something else I've been looking for."

"Midna-" The Hylian began, still wriggling against her grip.

"Couldn't you sense it? That skulltula-thing had a shard!" There was a growing excitement in her voice that surprised Sheik. Forgotten, he stood, letting Skull Kid perch on his shoulders, and began gathering up his belongings-and those that had belonged to Veran as well.

"How in the world do you know that?!"

"I told you, I can _sense _it! It's not like an animal smelling something or anything like that, it's magic calling out for magic! The shards _want_ to be reunited, so they're reaching out for magic like mine. Zant has to ignore the pull because he's trying to destroy Hyrule, but it'll help us because we're trying to _save_ it!"

Skull Kid watched him intently as he carefully packed away Veran's things into his own bag. Sheik kept one ear on the conversation between the Hylian and the creature, musing over what they were revealing.

He hid the bag behind a pillar and straightened, walking over to the Hero, heels silent as they struck marble.

"Show me." Both of them stopped arguing at his intrusion, and she spun to face him. The Hylian let out an irritated noise and her magic released him, sending him crashing to the ground.

"Show you what?"

"This…Twilight." The word was strange, unfamiliar on his tongue, and both of them noticed it. He wasn't entirely certain he'd pronounced it right, and Skull Kid's snickering told him he hadn't.

"Unless you want to ride out to-"

"No, no, I think I can. I've never done anything like this, though." She murmured, eyeing him intently, thoughtfully.

"Care to explain?" The Hylian sighed. She ignored him, falling deep into her magic as blue runes began to spark into existence around her. Black shapes, squares and rectangles, accompanied them, all glowing with a dusky inner glow.

It looked like Veran's magic had, imbued with more light than any Sheikah had ever handled before.

The shapes began to catch on one another's edges, forming a solid shape, a sort of mirror. He reached out with his own magic, letting her direct the flow.

Mostly what she did was show him the feel of the magic of Twilight, how comfortably it meshed with Hyrule's own magic. He was puzzled at first, at why they were so determined to stop it, until she showed him the source.

He never saw an image of what the source was, but it was a festering wound, corrupt and bleeding out magic not meant to exist on Hyrule. It was targeting every source of magic-

-Including the Ninth. Including Faron's Heart. Including Eldin's Fire.

Including his people.

He staggered away, sharply withdrawing himself from her magic as he began cursing for the second time that day.

"What was _that?"_ She seemed just as disoriented as he did. He checked his magic, the bindings Veran had meticulously worked at to guard his thoughts and mind from unwanted intrusion, and saw they were all in place. He hadn't let anything slip. So why was she affected?

"What happened?" The Hylian asked, hovering protectively over her as he stared at Sheik warily.

"Your magic-what was that? It-ugh, it's so _cold!_" She shuddered. Sheik didn't reply, simply climbed to his feet and walked over to where the Master Sword lay discarded. He doubted it would allow him to pick it up, so he kicked it over to the Hero, glaring coldly at the Hylian as he picked it up.

"Sheik…" Skull Kid grabbed Sheiks' bad arm, a painful reminder that this wasn't the time for a duel-not that he had anything to worry about.

"I should kill you now and be done with it."

"Are you insane? He's the Hero-"

"So was the last one!" Sheik shouted back, fists clenching. Her eyes widened in shock, seeming to at least partially understand what he'd meant, and he inwardly cursed, snapping his mouth shut. A thick, violent silence fell over them all for a moment.

"I _should_ kill you. Luckily for you, I need your blade."

"My what?" The Hylian asked, glancing at his companion.

"Only the Faron's Hero can slay the monsters that dwell in the Temples scattered across Hyrule, and only the Master Sword could cut through the evil infesting the land." The Hylian looked at him, confusion painted clearly across his face.

"I'm not the only one who can wield a sword. Rusl could kill the skulltula just as easily-"

"Faron created the creature to guard the Temple and ensure none but its caretakers and the Hero ever entered. The Master Sword is the only weapon that could ever harm it."

"It will return soon, then." The Hylian's companion reasoned, floating closer to him.

"Not unless your presence disturbs it. You have posed no threat thus far."

"And the woman?"

Skull Kid flinched, eyeing Sheik closely. The Sheikah didn't move, just cast his ruby glare to the Hylian again.

"What year is it?" He asked, voice clipped. His question seemed to throw off the Hylian.

"…It's the five-hundredth since Din's Wrath."

"You don't know _anything_." Skull Kid grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

"What are you-?"

"You think Eldin caused the Fracturing?" Sheik breathed aloud, shocked. He'd always known Hylians had a tendency to ignore the Goddesses, but to that extent? He shook his head and walked over to where the arachnid had vanished.

"Five centuries, Sheik!" Skull Kid chirruped, skipping after him.

"You should go."

"No."

"If Faron-"

"I don't leave friends. Especially with Hylians." Skull Kid said firmly, line of sight moving to the Hero.

"…And Veran would have wanted me to stay."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**I am terrible at updating. I always forget I can here at school, Lol. Anyway, this be chapter two. I finally got over my writing block (yes!)...I have the next chapter done, not sure I'll update today though. I think I have to edit it a bit first, which I suck at because I'm lazy...**

**SO, ANYWAY, 'Silhouttes' by Of Monsters and Men + Pandora Hearts Retrace 92 = Sobbing. But I haven't been able to stop listening. Anyway, I think it's the song I'm thinking of. Currently listening to dj-Jo so I can't really concentrate but I think that's the song that I thought fit the story perfectly. If it isn't OM&M it's probably something by Bring Me The Horizon? Not sure. Maybe I'll figure it out today. That would be awesome.**


	3. Shadow Trailing

Midna, being the traitorous little imp she was, disappeared into his shadow the moment the red-eyed man told him how to gain entrance to the Temple's inside, leaving him alone with a wooden child and a very angry stranger who had already tried to kill him-twice.

Link was not happy.

"Five hundred years…"

"Out of my way!" The high-pitched squeal startled all of them. Link spun around in time to see the red-eyed man hop backwards as a familiar bird-like creature bolted past them, a small blur tailing it.

"Hey, no! This is my Temple, not yours!" The wooden creature shouted, racing after them as it waved its fists. Link's eyes widened.

"Skull Kid-" The red-eyed man started after it, one hand outstretched.

He made a peculiar figure, every visible part of his body hidden beneath bandages save his face. He wore leather armor dyed a very dark blue-or, at least, Link assumed it was leather. It was smoother than it should have been. He wore a tabard over his chest with a black eye on it, a red tear leaking from below it. He had a mess of pale blonde hair tied back with the same white bandages into a long, thin braid except a tangle cut far shorter that hid his one of his eyes from view. Slender ears less pronounced than most Hylians poked out from beneath the strands. Some of the bandages had partially unraveled, revealing black hilts and silver blades secreted against his flesh. A cowl covered the lower half of his face, leaving only his eyes visible-the color of violence, of freshly spilt blood. Link had never seen a Hylian with red eyes, and he doubted he ever would again.

Link followed, turning the hilt of the Master Sword over in his hands distractedly as he did so.

"I've never seen anyone else at any of the Temples-Well, except for the Mines, but that was because Midna's hat is evil. Why are you here?" He asked, catching up to Sheik. The man moved immediately, distancing himself from Link. If Link hadn't been expecting it he would have hardly noticed.

"I live…lived here." His sharp voice broke briefly, halting and hesitating, but his posture didn't. He continued striding along the dark passage, pace not so much as faltering. Like all Temples, the Temple of Time was lit with an unearthly glow, dim enough to let shadows swallow what was ahead but powerful enough to illuminate Link's immediate surroundings.

Link almost asked about the woman, but remembering Sheik's expression, he stilled his tongue.

"Why choose here? Ordon isn't that far from here, and Kakariko and Castle Town have plenty of room."

"New." Link blinked at him, confused.

"New what?"

"New Kakariko. New Castle Town. The settlements you speak of were not the first to bear those names."

"Really? How do you know?" Link asked, genuinely curious.

"….I was born in Kakariko." Sheik hesitated before replying, but Link took it as a good sign that he'd replied at all.

"And it's still standing?" He couldn't imagine a town sturdy enough to exist even after Din's Wrath had destroyed almost all of Hyrule. Ordon had only existed for a couple of generations, as far as Link knew. Rusl's many times great grandfather had been the first settler, coming to Hyrule from Termina when the plains began drying up. Since, Ordon had been cut off from most everyone, until Rusl had left as a boy. It was Rusl who had forged ties with the Royal Family turned Ordon into an official town of Hyrule. Ordon was still nowhere near as old as five hundred, and every few years houses had to be repaired or, in bad weather, replaced.

_Maybe it was made of stone?_

Sheik let out a snort, startling Link.

"It shouldn't be. The village isn't a Distortion and it's been a little over five hundred years."

"What do you mean by that? You and the…what'd you call it? Skull Kid?" He asked, frowning. The pair kept mentioning it as if it was something incredibly important-and Link couldn't fathom why.

"Skull Kid is Faron's construct, the caretaker of this Temple."

"Shut up, Sheik!" Skull Kid's voice rang down the hall, shortly followed by a thump and an indignant shout. Link assumed it had caught up to Ooccoo, finally, although he couldn't say much. He couldn't count how many times he'd tried to catch the critter and failed , usually ending up in a crumpled heap by a wall or staircase.

"That still doesn't answer my question." He replied, looking at the red-eyed man beside him.

"_Sheik, I forgot to tell you-"_

And then something slammed into him, sending him crashing to the ground. Cold iron clamped around his throat, and Link's eyes widened as they tightened, crushing his windpipe.

His fingers clawed at whatever held him, but all he encountered was his own skin. He saw Sheik standing there, absolutely still and regarding him silently with those violent, furious eyes of his. Midna materialized above him, shouting frantically as her blue-black magic swirled around her.

His vision began to grow dark, limbs slowing in their thrashing. He couldn't believe he was going to die _here_, being strangled by a creature he couldn't see while Midna-_No. _He wouldn't-he refused!-to die before helping her, before destroying the man that had destroyed her.

The back of his left hand began to burn, and a golden glow suffused the air. He could barely make it out, lungs screaming desperately for air, and-

-Sheik lifted a hand and made a dismissive gesture. Suddenly Link could breathe again. The Triforce that marred his hand was still waking, drawing its power to strike at whatever had attacked him as he scrambled up. His lungs heaved as they drew in breath after breath of stale air, his gaze seeking his assailant.

"Stop-" Sheik didn't finish what he was going to say, but positioned himself between Link and…something.

Half-hidden behind the coverings he wore or not, Link still recognized the red-eyed man's look. He'd had it when he'd tried to save Ilia and Colin that day in the spring, only a few months ago. Hatred, alarm, desperation, and a terror that went far deeper than bone. Desperation in its purest form.

He'd never been good at controlling the Triforce unless he was in battle, but Link clumsily threw a number of mental bindings around it, drawing it back into the mark and sealing it up before it acted.

It wasn't pretty, and later Midna would have to help him fix it, but it did the trick. The power burst against its bindings, but he proved the stronger this time. The Triforce still got the last laugh, its magic healing the damage to his throat before it dropped into sleep again.

His surprise must have been obvious-the Triforce had never _ever_ acted in such a way before, and he had been injured far worse before, by things that he hoped were more terrifying than an invisible….something. He slumped against the wall, letting out an explosive breath while he prodded his throat. It terrified him how easily the Triforce had healed him with only a bare wisp of its power.

Midna had moved away when the golden glow began to emanate, but she returned the moment it died away. He knew it hurt her, light in its purest form, and didn't blame her. If she were to touch it, it could _literally_ destroy her.

She looked like she wanted to say something, to bark at Sheik or demand an explanation. It seemed to drain out of her, though, as she stared between the two of them.

For his part, Sheik didn't appear to trust either of them any more than he had before, although he _was _staring at Link strangely. Midna probably couldn't tell. She covered everything up with rage, so it had taken him a long while to be able to tell when she was feeling something other than hatred. Sheik was harder to discern, with the cowl and the hair and the fact he was _very_ good at staring coldly at him, but Link was confident he would eventually get it.

"...Who are the other Bearers?"

"What?" He sounded absolutely brilliant, but Sheik's question threw him.

"You hold a shard of the Triforce. That makes you a Bearer. There are three shards. Who hold the other two?" The patronizing was entirely intentional. Midna seemed offended that someone besides her was snapping at the Hero, and drew herself up as if to snap back when Link replied.

"Don't know. Princess…Well, technically, Queen…Anyway, Zelda has one. Wisdom. I don't know who has the other. Maybe it's still in the Sacred Realm?" Midna snorted in amusement. Sheik was clutching something to his chest tightly, obscuring his view of it. Link hoped it was the same 'something' that had attacked him, if only because he could pretend a monster that small would be less terrifying than something larger. Like a man-eating plant.

"What attacked me?" Link asked, tone becoming serious. Sheik hesitated visibly, then slowly uncurled his fingers.

A small lantern rested in his hands, glowing softly with navy and black light. Link hadn't thought it possible for black fire to give off light before he'd seen one of these for the first time, a Poe as it appeared to 'normal' people. The color almost resembled Midna's magic, save that it was far darker. Fingers wrapped in white began to shift, black liquid spilling from them and onto the lantern-and for an instant, Link could see how the Poe would appear to his other form.

It glowed a dark blue rather than the luminescent color of its peers, black lines crisscrossing its frame. Its body was more fluid than others, more like Midna's in the fact it didn't have jerky, disjointed limbs save where its feet melded into the lantern that Sheik held so tightly. A long, slender scythe dangled lazily from its diminutive hands, made of smooth polished silver. Unlike its kin, it had eyes, silver with a murky center, and a ragged blue cloak with the hood drawn tightly over its face. Link avoided looking at the blood stains on its cloak.

"What's wrong with it?" It was Midna who asked, her own magic sparking around her like a hundred tiny blossoms, winking out of existence as they reappeared elsewhere. It didn't hurt, but it sort of sizzled against his skin. By now he was familiar with the feel, but it still irritated him. When he was in his other form it wasn't noticeable. Midna had once told him it was because his other form was made of Twilight and his true form made of Light, so there were adverse reactions. He believed her-when he was in his other form and not in the parts of Hyrule that had been cursed by Zant he'd noticed an aching, a burning in his chest.

"Nothing. Our entrance woke her."

"Why did i-_she_ attack like that?" Link corrected himself just in time, something that slipped past the notice of Sheik.

"Poes come into existence in places where atrocities were committed, where violent deaths occurred. They are the remnants of souls too broken to pass on, too angry to let go. They become their own beings."

"But _why_ did it attack me? I mean, why not Skull Kid? Why not y-well, alright, maybe not you, and Midna hides in my shadow, but still!" To this, Link received only the cold, hostile look he was quickly becoming familiar with. The black stuff Sheik had poured over the lantern vanished, and so did the Poe. He spun around and resumed walking, tucking the lantern away as he did so.

Link hurried to catch up, Midna and Skull Kid trailing him, and without warning they burst into the Temple itself.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

"…So…" Sheik refused to look at the Hero as he bounced into his line of sight. They were waiting on Skull Kid while he tied skulltula hatchlings to his puppet strings, although the Hylian didn't know what he was doing.

"I've never seen a Hylian with red eyes before?" It came out more like a question, phrased awkwardly, but it still sent ice down Sheik's spine. He was leaning against the golden lattice that separated the circular hall from the skulltula-infested center.

The Poe had chosen a name now, Beth, and she slowly wound itself in circles around the Hero while Sheik slowly turned to face him, her confusion echoing Sheik's even as she discerned that he was not, in fact, lying. The Hylian's shadow batted at her occasionally, but Beth deftly wove around the half-hearted blows.

He didn't know whether to be relieved or angry. On one hand, he was pleased. His people were probably nothing more than faded myths, legends of demons with bleeding eyes and monsters unrestrained by death, which meant that very few, if any, would recognize what he was-because he _would_ leave the Seventh, and he _would _follow this ridiculous excuse for a Hero to ensure he survived long enough to slay the corruption. On the other, he was furious. After everything they had endured, every torment and every death, the Hylians had just dropped them out of their lore? They were forgotten entirely, the services, the deeds, their _entire_ history living on in lost survivors, unless he was the last one. They had suffered, and not even whispers remained of them?

Veran had been, as always, scrupulous in her magic. The magic binding him to Beth was entirely their own, a mutual contract that ensured neither could die while the other lived on. They would retain their own minds, but their souls would become too intertwined to separate. Sheik was uncertain of how much power she held, but he knew it would be more than Veran herself had possessed. The fire smoldering in her lantern was growing darker, a sign his emotions were loosening her control.

It was a struggle to regain control of himself.

"I'm done!" Skull Kid declared, appearing beside him, looking extremely pleased to have something beside Hylian corpses to play with. Sheik forced himself to focus on his friend rather than the Hero, nodding to Faron's construct before silently walking onwards. He knew little of the Seventh, but Beth knew where to go and he followed her lead. Skull Kid, although it was technically the guardian of the Seventh, had never been inside.

"Where are we going now?" Link asked, bouncing up to his side for the second time.

"To get the Dominion Rod."

"The _what_?"

"It's a…really old artifact. Veran stole it and I stole it from her and Majora said to put it here so I did except the cucco was the person Veran stole it from so-"

"Skull Kid…"

Faron's construct had the decency to look abashed. The Hero frowned, but said nothing.

Link bounced ahead when they approached the door they needed, inserting the key they'd found earlier into the lock hanging on the door. It took a few minutes to unravel the lock and its chain from the door handle, during which Sheik secured Beth's lantern to his hip. Her scythe swished in the air when the Hylian jumped back triumphantly, jerking the door open as he did so.

"There's something up ahead."

"It'd be disappointing if there wasn't." The Hylian replied cheerfully, vanishing inside. Sheik stared after him for a moment, then sighed and followed. He readied a dagger for throwing. He couldn't understand how such a reckless boy had survived Temples previous to this, even _with_ the shadow's help. He was a skilled fighter, yes, and he wielded the Master Sword and the Triforce of Courage, but that only went so far. He had no sense of caution whatsoever-and that irked Sheik more than he'd like to admit.

"Hey, look! A dead guy!"

"Darknut." Sheik corrected, frowning at him.

"That's a ridiculous name." The Hylian replied, eyeing the creature before them as it rose to its full height. It was heavily armored, a massive sword in its grip as it slowly turned its head to regard the two of them with skeletal eyes.

Sheik couldn't tell what soul had been bound to its form, but he still skirted around it, staying behind the Hero.

"It isn't a name."

"Then what is it?"

"A title for Hylians who betray the Goddesses' Sanctions." The Hero stopped and whirled to face him, blue eyes wide.

"He committed sacrilege?"

"Turn around!" Sheik shouted, furiously sending a dagger flying at the Darknut as it lunged forward, massive blade ready to cleave the Hero in half. In a ridiculously agile display, the Hylian dove to the ground and rolled away just in time to miss his death. The Darknut ignored Sheik's blade and it skittered ineffectually across its armor.

Sheik's gaze tracked the Darknut as it flexed its shoulders, bending and twisting slowly but purposefully. It wasn't sparing a single movement, but it couldn't hide its weakness from two sets of eyes-three, if one counted Skull Kid, but Faron's construct was playing with his newly acquired puppets in a corner, ignoring them.

The Darknut's armor was ancient, and had been for centuries. It was rusted and dappled with wear, once grand etchings all but invisible. The heavy armor was held together by corroding leather, discernible through gaps between metal on its back.

Sheik only saw it for a second, but before he could say anything, it spun around, its blade seeking his flesh. It was only thanks to Beth's warning that he managed to get far enough away to avoid the blow.

"Why is it attacking-?" The Hero asked, darting forward and slashing at the Darknut's back. His words ended in a grunt as a heavily armored elbow crashed into his face, sending him crashing to the ground.

"What sin do you think cursed it?" Skull Kid retorted, voice carrying clearly.

The most unnerving thing, Sheik decided, was that besides the clank of armor, the Darknut made no sound as it turned to face him. Link's blow had sent the armor around its waist partially to the ground, and it dangled at the Darknut's feet awkwardly. It was the only thing that saved Sheik's life when it launched itself at him.

He saw it coming and readied himself, another blade at his fingertips, when something latched onto his magic and _pulled_.

It was a ball of diseased rot, burning its way into his own core as it shredded his power. He screamed out hoarsely, barley feeling the Darknut's blade as it burst through his stomach.

He fought, Beth fought, but in the end it was a streak of ivory-gold light that ended it, driving through the Darknut's heart. Sheik's writhing magic tore through the weakened Darknut's, and it crumpled, ash and bone to the Seventh's floor.

"_Sheik!"_

His surroundings blurred. He was barely aware of falling, or of the Hero grabbing him and dragging him over to a wall, of stone against his spine. Veran's protective spells were fighting against the Darknut's infection, giving him enough of a break to muster his strength and attack it, pushing it out. Beth took care of it once it was separate from him, destroying the flakes of corruption.

He was dimly conscious of blood pumping over his stomach, his thighs, his fingers, soaking the stone beneath him. Veran's power encircled the center of his core, and his eyes flickered open.

Hylian eyes met his and while he sought a blade immediately, his fingers didn't so much as twitch. His head felt light, and he was barely able to focus on the Hero's movements. Skull Kid appeared, dancing frantically behind the Hylian, as did the shadow. It was the Hylian that touched him, though, removing his numb hands from his wound and unwinding bandages.

He couldn't understand why the Hero wasn't driving the Master Sword through his chest.

Veran's magic expanded, crushing the Darknut's infection. Sheik screamed again, body jerking as his essence was stretched far too thin, Lanayru's name escaping from him in a strangled jumble of syllables-

-and something tasting sharp, sweet, tangy, splashed against his tongue, ran down this throat. He fought, terror taking hold of him-_poison!-_

-Cerulean magic spilled across his core, cloaking Veran's blessings as well. The infection sizzled against it and vanished. Exhaustion crashed over him as Lanayru's magic expanded, sealing Beth's soul and his own in a diamond of safety.

Veran's magic, worn, fell silent as it retreated, vanishing into his wounded core as holy magic encased him.

"_….Sheik….!"_

**XXXXXXXXX**

**Why can't I be nice to my characters? Because there's no fun in that~**

**At this point this story is thirty two pages long and I just finished chapter four. *Sigh***


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